Short Steps, Deep Breaths
by arabmorgan
Summary: He deciphers the nuances of external cues, while she gleans secrets from the depths of the mind. Perhaps there is some credibility to the saying that opposites attract after all. Shikamaru Hiden spoilers.


**A/N:** I tried to make this fit the canon timeline as much as I could, but eh. Shikamaru Hiden has been translated by the lovely cacatuasulphureacitrinocristata on Tumblr, and the scene where Ino Shintenshins Sai takes place in Chapter 16. Also contains minor nods to The Last and Konoha Hiden.

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 **Short Steps, Deep Breaths**

" _We fit, you and I...Two broken pieces making a whole._ " — Nalini Singh

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Something is broken inside Ino, and has been ever since her father's voice faded out of her mind for the last time. Like everyone else of her generation, the ones who can no longer claim to be lucky enough to never have lived through a war, she comes out the other side a different person, a woman who has known pain and loss, rather than the brash and optimistic girl of before.

She is still beautiful, still poised and always perfectly made up, but those who know her well enough can see that she is putting a true effort into this façade now. The flawlessness that so many have always envied is now a chore rather than something to take pride in, but she does it anyway. She wants to look in the mirror and see someone her father would be proud of, someone _she_ can be proud of, but she doesn't understand why it gets harder every day rather than easier.

They never talk about it; no one does.

Her mother barely speaks at all now, too wrapped up in her own grief to help her daughter with hers. She still makes Ino breakfast lovingly each morning, and kisses her forehead before bed every night, but something is different now, and sometimes Ino feels like it might never be fixed.

Shikamaru is probably the only one to understand exactly how she feels, but it is for that exact reason that this topic never crosses their lips. Their emotions are still too fragile, too close to the surface to let out without completely breaking down, and that is the last thing either of them want. Not Shikamaru, certainly, who has always, ironically, put more effort into appearing nonchalant and unaffected than anything else.

Choji simply doesn't know what to say to her about it. They've known each other their whole lives, and his mere presence already speaks volumes beyond the simple condolences that passes everyone else's lips. Beyond that, all he can offer is guilt for his own intact family, but that only draws out a fierce anger from Ino that he shies away from.

Sakura is always there for her, a reminder of happier days and more innocent smiles, but there is a small, small part of her that hates her best friend for coming away from the war all but unscathed. Her team is still intact, albeit missing a few arms, as is her family; Ino's team fractured a long time ago, and now her family has shattered too. Thoughts like that only make her feel worse than ever — not only has she lost her father, but somewhere along the way she's also lost her ability to feel happiness for others.

She used to be tender, but her wounds have scabbed over messily and left her harsh. Ino mourns for more than the dead, she mourns for herself. Her strength has always been to care, to love, to nurture. Without that, she is nothing.

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There is no shortage of scarred survivors in Konoha now that the war is over, and more often than not these scars run deeper than the naked eye can see. With all the intensity of a drowning person thrown a lifeline, Ino drifts into their lives in an attempt to save them, but leaves just as quickly when she fails to save herself as well.

It is a sunny afternoon when Ino tears her eyes from the fluffy clouds and sits up. Turning, she stares down at the half-dozing Shikamaru for a long moment, and he has only just began to give her a quizzical look when she suddenly bends and presses her lips to his. He freezes as if she has performed an ice jutsu on him, but he makes no move to push her away as strands of her silky hair tickle his face and her tongue draws across his dry lips with a tentative slowness. She gives a breathy sigh when his lips part and he meets her halfway, her fingers trailing down the material of his black shirt until she reaches the edge.

"Ino," he whispers against her lips, tensing all over again at the feel of her cool fingers sliding over bare skin and splaying across his stomach. She feels his muscles clench under her touch, wrenching a groan from Shikamaru, and abruptly she seems to wilt against him. Shikamaru says nothing when she breaks the kiss and the tears come spilling from her eyes without warning, but his arms reach out to encircle her protectively. Tucking her head down beneath his chin, she withdraws her hand to clutch at the front of his shirt instead.

They stay that way for a long time, until Shikamaru's back muscles begin to ache and Ino's tears dry themselves out, and then they lay back down and continue to watch the clouds in silence. Neither of them ever speak of that occurrence again.

He sees her kissing someone else two weeks later, but he pretends not to see it.

In the end, Ino realises that most of these broken men hold no hope of ever climbing out of their own personal abyss. Many of them are older than her, with optimism that has all but burned out after a life of too much blood and death, and this past war has been the last straw. She finds them more interested in the temporary relief she can offer than the long-term affection she wants to give, and slowly, she stops trying as well.

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Ino is a jonin now — there were many promotions after the war, to make up for the many vacancies that had suddenly appeared in the ranks. She takes a lot more pleasure in missions than before, and the higher ranked the better, because she has grown, and she knows that she can handle them. Nothing makes her feel better than being needed, and nothing makes her feel more accomplished than stepping through Konoha's gates, immeasurably weary but drunk on the taste of success.

Despite the efficacy of their jutsus when they work in sync, Ino rarely ever goes on missions with her two childhood friends anymore. Sometimes, she finds herself leading a team of chunin, fresh-faced and bright-eyed in a way that she barely remembers ever being; other times, she finds herself closely guarded, the sole medic-nin in a team of hard-eyed jonin no more than a year or two older than her.

She doesn't mind. Somehow, it's easier to smile and chatter on mindlessly in a group of acquaintances than to her friends, who will inevitably sense the falseness to her cheer and bring her mood down even more with those terrible looks of pity. She hates being stuck in this rut as much as they hate seeing her in it, but try as she might, she just can't seem to claw her way out.

The first time she goes on a mission with Sai, she is more indifferent at the knowledge of her partner than anything else. She can't recall the last time they had an actual conversation, and she has never counted him among her close friends anyway. So she smiles at him, and makes him promise to call her _Ino_ instead of _Ino-san_ , and then they set off on their mission.

Sai seems apathetic to the stream of conversation she tries to keep up — a side effect of being on the same team as Naruto half the time, no doubt — but neither does he react when she gives up and goes silent. She doesn't know him very well, but she almost thinks that he might be uncomfortable in her presence, or more likely in the _absence_ of Naruto and Sakura's presence. She has a feeling that Kakashi has been unconsciously coddling him, allowing him to go on missions in familiar company so often that his social development seems to have been stunted beyond the realms of Team 7.

Their first real disagreement, if it can even be called that, happens the next morning at dawn, when they step out of the somewhat dingy motel they spent the night in, and Ino turns to Sai to ask him what he feels like eating for breakfast.

"You can pick, Ino," he says, in that cheerful way he has that always makes her feel like he's mocking her in some way. If she didn't know better, she might say that he actually looks faintly startled at her question, although she can't for the life of her imagine what is so shocking about being asked to name a type of food.

"What kind of shinobi are you? Why are you so indecisive?" she grumbles irritably, shooting him a dirty look. There's no real venom in her voice — Ino doesn't lose her temper over negligible issues, not anymore — but something in Sai's face seems shift almost imperceptibly. His dark gaze flickers to the ground for a brief moment before lifting again, unreadable once more.

"Sorry, Ino." And he gives her that stupid smile again, but this time she swears it looks almost sad, a little more-half-hearted than usual, like he wants to say something to her but doesn't quite know how to. It actually makes her feel bad, and she has to hold back a sigh.

"It's nothing. Come on, let's go."

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After that, she goes on another three missions with Sai over the course of the year before they part ways for a few long months. He doesn't cross her mind again until he goes missing in the Country of Silence, and the team that was sent to investigate the situation stops sending updates as well. Shikamaru is on that team, and Ino is the first to volunteer to accompany the Suna troops that have, strangely enough, shown up to help.

She has a feeling it has something to do with Temari, whose barely-concealed anxiety about Shikamaru's safety when she comes to stand before Kakashi is clear for everyone to see.

When they reach the mysterious country, Ino is incredibly grateful to see that everyone is still very much alive, and only just has the time to make a note to remember to tease Shikamaru about needing to be saved by a woman _again_ , when Sakura urgently calls her name.

She gets to rescue Sai this time, the way he once defended the empty shell of her body, and the few seconds she needs to enter his mind and search for his buried consciousness is enough for her to understand him so much more than, she suspects, anyone else ever will.

The blackness of his mind is absolute, stifling, and utterly shocking. It is nothing like the hazy dimness of memory loss, or the flickering light of a dying person — no, it is the complete lack of a self, and it takes all Ino has not to recoil from it. Sai doesn't even have the simple luxury of having preferences, likes or dislikes; anything but blind acceptance has been trained out of him, and Team 7's efforts to integrate him have barely scratched the surface of the problem.

He has so much more to learn beyond mere social niceties, she realises, vague memories from his past flashing past her as she dives ever deeper into his mind, heedless of the risk. Very little has become more important to Ino than saving someone's life; perhaps that will make up for all the friends and family she has lost over the years.

A particular memory catches her attention only because she herself is present in it, one out of hundreds and thousands of faces.

" _What kind of shinobi are you? Why are you so indecisive?"_

And then the flashes of memories within that single memory — following Naruto to Ichiraku's, following Sakura who is dragging Naruto _away_ from Ichiraku's, following both of them over to a takoyaki stand in the middle of a mission. Team 7 loves Sai with all their hearts, but they have never asked him to make decisions about anything unrelated to combat and missions, much less something as insignificant as what to eat.

It staggers Ino to realise that Sai has never in his life made a conscious decision about _meals_ , and it is something that sticks with her long after her lids flutter open in the midst of the battle.

Seeing Sai's eyes snap open and his body stiffen, she takes his hand in her own and squeezes it comfortingly, gratified to feel some of the tension drain out of him at her touch. In that moment, something of the old Ino seems to rise up in her, the same girl who once reached out to a pink-haired classmate with an unusually large forehead, and the one who now clutches Sai's hand tightly in hers as if she would face the world with him.

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A week after their return from the Country of Silence, Ino spots Sai sitting on the roof of an apartment beside the Hokage Tower, sketchbook and paintbrush in hand. She stares at him for a moment, before the desire to see how he is doing overwhelms her hesitation. She leaps up to join him easily, and even though he gives no indication that he has sensed her presence, she knows that he is aware of her approach anyway.

Finally, when she is all but standing right on top of him, he looks up and their eyes meet. At the sight of his blank stare, she blinks and swallows back her smile, attempting to keep her expression as impassive as his, before remembering that impassive is probably just the default setting of his face. She relaxes, and the sudden bright smile that she gives him seems to give Sai pause.

"Ino," he begins, as she takes a seat on the other side of his sketchbook and begins to peer curiously at his half-finished painting. "Thank you." There is no trace of a smile, false or otherwise, on his face; he is deadly serious.

She forces a laugh, tossing her hair flippantly. "Whatever for?"

"You saved me. You're supposed to thank people when you feel gratitude towards them."

 _You saved me._ It's everything she's always wanted to hear and more, and something about those three words suddenly make it harder to maintain the smile she doesn't feel.

Slowly, Ino's eyes lift to meet Sai's again, her expression oddly uncertain after her laughter of a few seconds ago. "You're welcome," she says haltingly, and gives him a tiny smile. "I'm glad I could save you."

In the light of day, in the safety of Konoha, the irrepressibly strong connection she had felt with Sai in Gengo's hideout seems to have faded to nothing more than a tenuous thread. It leaves Ino feeling emptier than usual, and she picks at the edge of her top in frustration. Shinobi save each other on missions all the time, and this should be no different, except it _is_ , because she has been inside Sai's mind and allowed it to become personal.

Abruptly, she puts her hand on his arm and smiles like she doesn't notice Sai falling suddenly still beneath her touch. "Let's go out for a meal," she says firmly. "Friends usually have meals together once in a while, you know."

He looks at her with those wide, curious eyes, and Ino feels like he is looking right through her until he smiles. "Will you be treating me?"

A startled laugh, rare and genuine, escapes from Ino's throat, and she hits him hard on the arm. "You can't just _ask_ people that!" she exclaims, rolling her eyes. "You seriously need to spend less time with Naruto and Kakashi, those moochers." She grins, as if she hasn't just insulted the current and future Hokages in one breath.

A few minutes later, Ino discovers that it is actually surprisingly unnerving to walk beside Sai, even if their destination is only a few streets down to a nearby restaurant. He walks silently by her side like one of Shikamaru's shadows, always perfectly in step with her even though she is the one leading the way. He doesn't act like anyone she has ever gone out with; there are no cues she can glean off him that will tell her what to say or how to act.

Ino has gone so long reading off people's emotions and acting accordingly that she feels frighteningly lost when left to be herself. If Sai notices anything is amiss, he doesn't mention it.

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Unexpectedly, Sai becomes her crutch of sorts. On days when she feels tired and out of sorts, and no longer able to deal with the price of company, she goes in search of this equally damaged boy, although she isn't sure why herself.

With every day that passes, she is beginning to learn more about him, little by little. If he is not on a mission, he is always sitting somewhere painting or reading, as if he doesn't know what else to do with himself. He is rarely in his apartment, preferring instead to perch in trees or settle on rooftops above busy streets or occupied training grounds so as to find easy subjects for his considerable artistic abilities. Privately, Ino has a feeling that he just likes to surround himself with people.

They don't usually speak much. Sometimes, Sai doesn't even acknowledge her beyond the barest inclination of his head when she appears at his side, and Ino doesn't need any more than that. All she wants to do is sit down beside him in comfortable silence to catch her breath in anticipation of the coming days, shutting her eyes to the sound of the soft sweep of his brush against paper. It is an arrangement that both of them like, because even if they never say it out loud, neither of them want to be alone.

He does nothing special for her, but that in itself is already everything. In return, she tries to teach him as much as she can, as best she can. It has already become a common sight to see the unusual pair strolling along the street, Sai tilting his head slightly towards Ino's as she points to various things on a detailed list of activities in her hand. If any of their friends wonder about them, Ino certainly doesn't hear about it.

She brings him to try every outlandish flavour of dango that is on offer, but he turns out to prefer tofu to any kind of dango at all. They spend a few hours visiting and demonstrating various jutsu for the thrilled Academy students one balmy morning, and he surprises her by expressing a desire to return at the end of the session; the children seem to move something deep within him, and although he spends more time staring at them wistfully than anything else, Ino takes it as a sign of progress. He even attempts to teach her the finer art of calligraphy, but she can't seem to grasp the exact precision needed for each stroke of the brush, and almost knocks his entire bottle of ink over with one proud but misguided flourish.

It is easier to laugh around Sai, she finds, just as easy as silence is around him. Unlike her mother and her teammates, nothing about him reminds her of her loss; unlike Sakura, he does not suffocate her with unsaid but all-too-tangible worry; unlike everyone else, he expects nothing from her, and accepts everything she wants to give.

Even though she knows it is impossible, Ino often hopes that he will retain his endless wonder for everything the world has to offer for as long as he lives. Anyone seeing him patiently trying ice-cream flavours beside her with that almost mockingly thoughtful expression on his face would never think that he has been through hell and back again in the first sixteen years of his life.

It is a strange, strange process when they are both learning how to be themselves, one from scratch and one all over again.

Sometimes, Ino thinks that Sai makes it look so very easy.

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In spite of everything, Ino can't deny that her team still makes up two of her most important people in the world, and a week where she doesn't see them at least once never seems complete, even if she does yell at them more than should be healthy.

" _Choji_!" Today is one such day, and with a furious shriek, Ino slams her chopsticks down on the table, her face turning a dangerous shade of crimson. Choji freezes in mid-chew, and Shikamaru actually takes the time to look between the two of them with a bemused expression on his face.

"Wh – what's wrong, Ino?" Choji manages to choke out around his mouthful of beef. His eyes are huger than Ino has ever seen them, and for a moment she worries that she might have just given him a heart attack.

Lowering her voice marginally, she snaps, "You just ate the meat that _I_ was barbecuing! Again!" Considering this has been going on since they were twelve, she doesn't even know why she bothers yelling at him for it anymore. It also means that she's been screaming about it for almost eight years now, so she really doesn't understand the flabbergasted expressions her two oldest friends are giving her.

"What is it?" she demands, slightly worried now. Does she have something on her face? Has her lipstick smeared? Is there sauce in her hair?

Shikamaru shakes his head slowly, looking strangely amused. "It's nothing, Ino," he says, reaching with his chopsticks for one of his own pieces of beef and dropping it onto her plate. "You just haven't scolded Choji for that in a long time. I'm glad you're doing it again; I think I've been losing weight without you bothering to correct his eating habits."

Choji gives a spluttering laugh and nods hastily. "I'm sorry, Ino. I won't do it again," he promises contritely, even though they all know that he'll instinctively reach for the next piece of meat he sees anyway, regardless of who it's supposed to belong to.

A similar occurrence happens when she is walking down the street arm-in-arm with Sakura, and they both spot a familiar shade of bright blonde up ahead, with a more petite figure walking alongside him. A lovely red scarf is looped loosely around the blonde's neck despite the unseasonable weather. Both Ino and Sakura tense up at the sight, identical expressions reminiscent of hungry cats crossing their faces.

"Aww, look at them!"

"They are _so_ adorable!"

"Wait, wait, I think he might be going in for a kiss ―"

"I don't think so…he's just whispering something to her―"

"Look at the way Hinata is _blushing_!"

The girlish squeals continue all the way back to Sakura's house, even after the couple is long out of sight, and something strange crosses Sakura's face when their excitement simmers down a little. Ino tilts her head curiously, eyeing her best friend.

"What is it?"

Sakura shakes her head in much the same way as Shikamaru, a grin widening on her face before she abruptly launches herself at Ino for a hug.

"Whoa, Sakura!" Ino laughs, stumbling backwards a few steps before she manages to catch herself. "What's up with you?"

"I'm just glad to be having fun with you again, that's all," the pink-haired medic mumbles, burying her face against Ino's shoulder. She sounds a little choked up, and Ino sighs, figuring it's probably better not to ask.

It's more than a little gratifying not to be the only one to notice herself loosening up more and more as the months go by. She's glad to be having fun again too.

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The revelation hits her on one of their quiet afternoons together. She is lying in the shade of an old oak, the back of her head head pillowed on her palms in Shikamaru's cloud-watching pose, although her eyes are closed. Sai sits beside her, sketching steadily and silently. He never hums or whistles the way she does sometimes, just to break the silence; in fact, she can barely even hear him breathe, but the comforting scratch of charcoal on paper reassures her that he is still there.

His movements gradually slow to an occasional stroke or two, and she can tell he's almost done, but she doesn't open her eyes until she feels the back of his hand brush across her bangs in a way that might almost be accidental. He's done touching up the sketch. She cracks open her eyelids and sees him looking right down at her, his face blocking out the faint rays of sunshine that have penetrated the leaves.

Something in her chest lurches at the sight of his face above hers, his eyes boring right into hers quizzically, lips slightly parted in a way that she knows is in no way intended to make her heart race the way it suddenly is. "Sai," she whispers, breaking the silence that has dragged on for too long. She sits up slowly, and it seems to take an age for him to move away so she can straighten fully.

"I drew this for you." He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling familiarly, and he hands her the loose sheet he has been working on with fingers that have been stained sooty and black. He appears just as comfortable and at ease as he has always been, and Ino slowly takes the thick piece of art paper, forcing her gaze to lower to the drawing that adorns it.

It is Ino, of course, the Ino of mere moments ago. Her eyes are closed, lashes sweeping in a gentle arc away from her skin, the relaxed tilt of her mouth naturally curving upwards ever so slightly. She looks more content, more peaceful than she has ever seen herself. The representation is stark in its monochrome strokes, but Sai has somehow managed to capture the gentle dappling of sunlight on her skin and the glossy sheen of her hair fanned out across her skin.

Her heart is pounding so hard that it is encompassing all her senses, but somehow she manages to lift her head and smile right back at Sai. Her first instinct is to place her hand on his arm and thank him, but she opts to remain motionless instead, fearing that he might feel the fluttering beat of her heart right through her skin.

"Thank you, Sai." Her voice is admirably calm even through all her inner turmoil, and the thought soothes her slightly. "It's beautiful."

It is testament to how far his social skills have come that he immediately replies, "Only because _you're_ beautiful." His inflections are still lacking, as are his facial expressions, but she doesn't doubt for a moment the sincerity in his words. Promptly and embarrassingly, her face crumples at that simple compliment, and she lays the drawing down carefully before burying her face in her hands as the tears begin to flow.

Hesitantly, he reaches out to lay a hand on her back, and she knows that she's shocked him as much as it is possible to shock Sai. His touch is achingly soft and only makes her cry harder, although she doesn't really know what the tears are for ― perhaps for everything she's lost, and how, after such a long time, she's finally beginning to pick the scattered bits and pieces up again.

Sai is still sitting by her side when her tears begin to ebb, and when she lifts her red-rimmed eyes it is to find that he is staring at her with open concern. She knows for certain right then: she is falling for him, or perhaps she has already fallen, and fallen hard for this man-child whose dark eyes have seen both too much and too little of the world.

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It takes another two months for their relationship to become official, and without either of them ever breathing a word of their feelings to each other until that very day.

In retrospect, Ino will mark the day Sai gave her that sketch as the start of their sort-of courtship. He begins to gift her more pieces of artwork, some simple representations of Konoha's landscape, others fully-fledged paintings of her favourite flowers, or even of Ino herself. More than once, he shows up at her family's flower shop the day after she returns from her missions with a cup of her favourite pudding in his hands. Most of all, he spends a great deal of time openly staring at her without a trace of embarrassment, as if he is seeing her properly for the first time.

If it were any other male, Ino might have laughed and smugly announced to Sakura that he is _clearly_ smitten with her, but Sai isn't just any other male. He is an unknown variable of epic proportions, and she can't say with any certainty if he's acting like that because he returns her feelings, or because he has read in a new book that this is what friends are supposed to do for each other.

The day that everything clicks into place is spectacularly unremarkable. The only hint Ino gets that something out of the ordinary might be lying in wait is the fact that Sakura can't seem to stop smirking at her over brunch.

"Knock it _off_ , Forehead!" Ino grumbles half-heartedly, shooting Sakura a strange look. Everything about her best friend's expression is screaming at her to exercise caution, for it is the devious look of a disaster in the making, rather than the joyous exhilaration that might mark an event such as the last Uchiha's return to Konoha.

"I'm _sorry_!" Sakura repeats insincerely for the thousandth time, although her grin doesn't fade in the slightest. Ino gives up on rolling her eyes after a while.

Still, she can't shake off the sense of unease that Sakura has imbued in her all the way back to the flower shop, and that feeling is only compounded tenfold when Sai enters the shop less than five minutes after her return. His eyes are unusually wide, and he looks very much like a stunned deer. Ino's brows arch in a mixture of amusement and confusion to see such an expression on him.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she asks, coming around the counter to fix him with a penetrating gaze. It's not that she isn't glad to see him, but she can't help but feel that her friends are definitely up to something suspicious.

Sai hesitates before answering her, which is strange enough in itself. In all the time she has spent with him, Sai has never faltered in his speech, _ever_ ; calm, cool and collected — every word he speaks is always assured and properly thought-out. Until now.

Sucking in a breath, he seems to be making the effort to enunciate his words clearly, even though Ino has never had any problem understanding his speech. "I would like to buy a bouquet of hydrangeas."

With the faintest furrow between her brows, Ino nods and moves to retrieve a bunch of the small, blue-purple blossoms in question. She desperately wants to ask him who the flowers are for, but she doesn't know if she cares to hear the answer.

Sai pays for the bouquet in silence, and Ino can't think of anything to say at all. She is honestly bewildered when he makes no move to leave, and instead continues to stand in front of the counter like he has been rooted to the spot. His face is blanker than ever, but the jerky movement of his throat as he swallows convulsively betrays his nerves.

"What do they mean? These hydrangeas?"

Ino's brows rise even higher in sheer disbelief, but she automatically, dutifully recites, "It represents heartfelt emotions, and can also express the giver's gratitude for the recipient's understanding."

"Oh." Sai nods awkwardly, and another beat passes where they stare at each other mutely, before he abruptly extends the bouquet over the counter towards her. "Well, this is for you."

"Me?" Her eyes fly wide open, and she slowly reaches for the flowers, feeling as if the very air has turned to a sticky glue that won't let her move any faster than a snail's pace. Is this really happening? Time seems to slow as her mind goes into overdrive, and she feels as if an age passes when in truth, she only looks down at the bouquet contemplatively for no more than two seconds.

 _Heartfelt emotions. Thank you for understanding me._

It is the best confession she could ever have asked for. In a flash, Ino leaps right _over_ the counter and flings herself into the arms of a very stunned Sai. He is wonderfully warm, and he smells very, very good, a delicious blend of ink fumes and plain soap and a faint, sharp scent beneath it all that is purely Sai.

"Thank you, thank you, _thank you_ ," she breathes, closing her eyes and burying her face in the fabric of his top. "I like you, I like you so much, but I thought ―I don't know. I'm just glad. I think I might love you, you know." She knows she is babbling, and that there are tears in her eyes to accompany the huge smile on her face when she pulls back to catch sight of Sai's own smile.

Without giving herself the time to think, she leans up to nip lightly on his bottom lip, and Sai actually lets out a tiny squeak when her tongue brushes his. Ino can't help giggling ― he is _adorable_ , and right now, he is all hers. The kiss is more than a little awkward, but it leaves her feeling all sorts of fluttery anyway.

"I like you too," Sai says, looking a lot less solemn than before with his flushed cheeks and ruffled hair, and Sai being Sai, he feels the need to add, "Romantically."

Ino laughs, a sound of pure delight, and pulls him down firmly for another kiss. Sai is only too happy to oblige.

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" _I wonder how many people don't get the one they want, but end up with the one they're supposed to be with._ " — Fannie Flagg


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